


The Date

by life0nmars



Series: Crowley mmm [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Castles, Crowley and Feelings, Crowley using his powers during sex, Cunnilingus, Dating, F/M, Fancy Dress, Fucking, Gags, Kissing, Magic, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sushi, Telepathy, Teleportation, defiling a castle because Crowley, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 10:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3352481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/life0nmars/pseuds/life0nmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mind-blowing first night together, Crowley decides to show his new lover a good time.</p><p>They might defile a few public places in the process...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bandit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandit/gifts), [LokisScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisScribe/gifts), [Sherlockian_87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockian_87/gifts), [Eloraci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloraci/gifts).



> Okay! Happy Valentine's Day, all you Crowley junkies! Here is the long-awaited sequel to Surprise Visit. 
> 
> I have decided that, since I am going serial with this pairing, my leading lady will have more of a physical description and a name. Nikola is very excited for you to read about her date with Crowley. 
> 
> The places they go do in fact exist. I did a fair bit of research for this one. I encourage you to look up pics of the castles! 
> 
> Mr. Uezu is a real person. I have never met him, but I hope I did him justice here. Also super huge apologies if my liberties with the Japanese language offend - I just went off Google (I know, for shame!). 
> 
> I am really quite proud of this story! I hope you love it too. I'm open to any requests and suggestions for their next adventure together. Any kinks you'd like to read? Throw 'em my way! 
> 
> Alright, here we go...

Nikola awakes the next morning (early afternoon, but who’s counting?) delightfully sore. The balm that Crowley had applied to her overworked muscles the night before had certainly done the trick as far as preventing stiffness in her neck and shoulders, but the deep ache she feels inside is a different kind of sore altogether - and not an unwelcome one. Every move she makes just reminds her of only a few hours past, of Crowley’s hands all over her, of his warm mouth… and of his other traits.

She also notices that despite the generous quantity of Scotch that her and her gentleman friend had imbibed, she isn’t feeling at all hungover. Bonus points for the King.

Stretching her arm out, she is disappointed to find that said King is not, as she’d hoped, sleeping next to her. It was a long shot to think that he’d want to stick around, but hey a girl could dream.

Nik cracks her eyes open. In the filtered afternoon light of her bedroom, she sees that the candles that had been scattered all over her room the previous night have disappeared, leaving behind only the faint scent of melted wax and snuffed wicks lingering in the air. She looks over to the other side of the bed and is surprised to find a note on the pillow. She reaches over and snags it eagerly. It’s a very high quality, heavy parchment, folded over once and bearing her name on the outside in an elegant, crimson script. Nikola sits up and arranges her pillows against her headboard, then leans back against them and unfolds the note. It reads:

 

Good Morning, my Darling Nikola,

I trust you have slept well. As I write this, you are deep in a peaceful slumber. You truly are a beautiful woman.

It is with a heavy heart that I must take my leave of you this morning. I had rather hoped for another round but duty calls. I do have a kingdom to run…

Let it never be said that I am a bad guest. Please, do enjoy this breakfast. I wish I could have cooked it for you while you watched, perhaps feeding you morsels as I prepared your meal, letting you lick and suck the seasonings from my fingers. Oh dear, now I’ve gone and distracted myself.

I will absolutely call you later. In fact, I look forward to it.

Until later my Pet,

Crowley

 

Nikola realizes that she’s grinning like a total lunatic by the end of the note. She reads it several more times, hearing the words in His Majesty’s own voice. She may have swooned. Just a bit.

Her stomach eventually catches up with her awakened state and gives a hearty growl. She looks around her room for this breakfast that Crowley mentioned. Her gaze lights on her large dresser - on the top of it sits a fancy, overly-laden tray that she swears had not been there a few seconds earlier. Nikola hops out of her bed and in her excitement almost skips over to check it out, still quite naked thank you very much. The scents wafting from it make her mouth water. The tray itself is a dark mahogany, highly polished. Artfully arranged upon the tray are a glass of chilled orange juice and a mug of steaming tea that smells both herbal and floral, a dish covered with a shiny, bell-shaped silver lid, a linen napkin the same shade of crimson as the ink of his note is folded next to the dish with heavy cutlery on top, and even one tall, thin vase containing one solitary rose that is such a dark shade of purple it’s almost black. She leans in and gives it a delicate sniff and it smells heavenly. Wait, scratch that - it smells hellishly good. Nikola is going to have to learn to watch her vocabulary.

If this turns out to be A Thing. Which, hey, it might not. It might just be a one-time deal. She’s certainly not complaining about the experience. But the idea that Crowley might not be a continued presence in her life brings an unexpected pang of loneliness and sadness. Stupid to get sentimental about it but she can’t seem to help herself.

But enough of the feels. She’s got a royal breakfast to devour. Her growling stomach agrees.

Grabbing the smooth, polished handles of the tray Nikola lifts, expecting it to weigh a fair amount. She nearly tosses the entire thing behind her, however, as she finds it to be quite light. Magic, she muses, and can’t help the giddy grin that breaks out anew on her face. Nikola makes her way carefully back to bed - no way she isn’t enjoying this feast while wrapped up in her covers! The sheets still hold Crowley’s scent and she allows a sliver of sentiment to creep in as she burrows in, then turns once again to the tray. Unable to contain her anticipation any longer, she lifts the silver dome from the plate.

The scents that had been merely teasing before hit her full-force as the lid clears the simple, white plate. On the plate, she finds seasoned and roasted red potatoes, an omelette that appears to contain ham and mushrooms, and two thick slices of perfectly cooked bacon. Everything is still steaming and the bacon is still crisp and slightly chewy when she takes a big bite. It’s absolutely the best damn bacon she’s ever put in her mouth. Without even waiting to swallow, she cuts herself a bite of the cheesy omelette and stuffs it in. Perfectly seasoned eggs, juicy ham, thick-sliced mushrooms, and at least four different cheeses explode with flavor in her mouth. Oh, fuck me, this is so good. She’s pretty sure she made some of these same noises last night when she had ten inches of demon dick deep inside her. She chews and finally swallows, then spears a potato and pops it in. Crispy outside and creamy inside, olive oil and rosemary and salt and pepper. Nikola can no longer control the sounds that are coming from her throat.

She washes down the first few bites with a swig of the o.j. She vaguely wonders which part of the globe Crowley went to where they had oranges made out of pure magic. Then she pictures Himself with those shirtsleeves rolled up, squeezing magically conjured oranges into the elegant glass. Huh. It’s actually quite a charming mental image.

Nikola has made her way through about half of the omelette and a third of the potatoes (the bacon has long-since vanished into her tummy) when she hears a vaguely familiar guitar riff coming from her left. Glancing over, she sees her phone screen light up with a darkly handsome, scruffy and thoroughly shagged-out face at the same time as Ozzy Osbourne’s iconic voice comes from the speaker, “Miiiister Crowleeey, what went on in your head?” Of course. Quickly wiping her fingers on the linen napkin and once again grinning like a total dork, Nikola grabs her phone, swipes the answer button over and puts him on speaker.

“Good Morning, Your Majesty,” she tries going for seductive but it comes out a little thick through her mouthful of egg and cheese.

“Hello, Darling. I see you’ve found your breakfast,” Oh holy hell, her imagination did not do that voice justice. Even over the tinny cell phone speakers, that dusky lilt lights sparks all the way to her toes.

“Yes. Oh, fuck, yes,” she nearly moans in reply. “This is… seriously, this is amazing. I don’t know if I’ve ever had anything this good.”

He chuckles, a hint of dark promise in that sound. “Glad it meets with your approval. Have you tried the tea?”

“No, not yet. I’m busy mouth-gasming over this omelette. The bacon was the first to go by the way. Where did you get it? I mean, did they serenade the pigs and massage them daily or something? Those must have been some fucking happy pigs to make bacon that delicious.”

“Oh, something like that,” he replies brightly. “A little farm I know of. They do their own butchering. Got a standing deal with the gent who runs the place. That little piggy was slaughtered only last week, hung out to cure and smoked right on property.” Only the King of Hell could make the word “slaughtered” sound sexy. “Try the tea, go on. It’s a proprietary blend. Something I learned from my mum.”

“Your mum the witch?” She picks up the mug, cradling its warmth in her hands and inhaling the fragrant steam.

“The very same. It’ll take care of any lingering, ah, aches and pains you may have this morning.”

“I dunno, I kind of like the aches and pains, Sire.”

She hears his sharp intake of breath at that. It’s a moment before he can reply. “All the same, Pet. I wouldn’t want to wear you out completely. I need you rested up for tonight.”

“Tonight?” She tries really hard to keep the excitement out of her voice. 

“If you’re free, of course. I thought we could go for dinner.”

“And why would I need to be ache-free for dinner?”

His chuckle once again sends a thrill straight to her core. “Dessert, of course.” His gravelly voice has lowered into its seductive range. Even that cheesy line coming from him totally works on her.

Trying to give herself time to recover, she goes ahead and takes a cautious sip of the still-hot tea. It’s surprisingly good - there is a slight medicinal aftertaste but she mostly gets floral notes. He’s clearly taken the liberty of sweetening it for her as well. “This isn’t too bad, for witch tea,” she acknowledges. “And of course I’m free tonight. As far as you’re concerned, I’m free every night.”

She realizes how clingy that sounds and cringes. However, there is definitely a smile in his voices as he responds, “Wonderful! I’ll be by to pick you up at 6:00 tonight, then. I’ll let you finish your breakfast, Pet.”

“Already there,” she answers unashamedly with her mouth full once again. She hears his chuckle as she swallows down her mouthful. “I’m really excited, Crowley. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“Same here, Nikola.” And with that, he’s gone.

It’s some minutes later after she’s absolutely stuffed (as soon as she lays her fork onto her empty plate and swallows the last of the o.j., the entire tray vanishes) and laying back in her bed to bask in her post-breakfast glow that she realizes she’s forgotten to ask where they’re going and, more importantly, what she should wear. Just as she’s reaching for her phone, it chimes its incoming text tone. It’s from Crowley, of course:

 

“It’s a surprise. As for what you should wear, look to your right.”

 

Okay, that package was definitely not there a second ago. On the bed next to her is a long, flat box like the kind you use to wrap clothing gifts in. It’s tied with a big red bow. Nikola can’t help it - she giggles. She’s beginning to lose track of how many giggles Crowley is managing to get out of her. It’s unseemly.

She tugs the bow open and lifts the lid. Black tissue paper patterned with little skulls and crossbones lines the box. Folding back the top layer, she sees what’s inside and gasps.

Inside is possibly the most beautiful gown Nikola has ever seen. The bodice is structured black satin with swirls of red crystals sewn onto it. The sweetheart neckline leads up to flattering, wide satin straps. The back is modest and carries the swirly red crystal theme. It’s reminiscent of vintage 1950s style, which she absolutely adores. She hops out of bed and smoothes the dress down over herself to better see it. The skirt is made up of a black satin sheath over layers upon layers of red ruffly fluff underneath. She just knows that her curvy figure will be expertly displayed in this. She could imagine movie stars wearing its like on the red carpet. She grabs a hanger from her closet and hangs the dress up over her bedroom door so she can air it out and just admire it. 

After a moment or two, Nikola turns back to the box. Under another layer of the adorably patterned tissue paper she finds black satin elbow-length gloves, thigh-high fishnet stockings, and some scandalous red underthings - a simple corset, followed by barely-there sheer red panties. Someone definitely has a color theme, she muses.

She briefly pictures Crowley removing the panties with his teeth. She files it away for later.

Not in the box are any type of footwear. Nikola panics for a moment - she has no formal shoes whatsoever. She owns several pairs of boots and a couple pairs of sneakers that had seen better days. What, was she just going to wear her Doc Martens under this dress?

Her phone chimes again:

 

“Your Doc Martens will be just fine. I wouldn’t have it any other way, Pet.”

 

Okay, the mind-reading thing is definitely creepy, but she’s actually beginning to get used to it. Which makes it exponentially creepy. Nik grins in absolute delight.

Nikola hadn’t been lying to Crowley - she is seriously excited for this evening. A quick glance at her phone clock shows her that it’s almost 3pm. She wanders into the kitchen and feeds her cat, and takes a moment to look out of her kitchen window. Although it is quite a cold winter day, the sky is mostly clear and the sun is shining brightly. It’s the same view she had yesterday, but it looks different now. Brighter, richer. A small part of her animal brain recognizes the implied threat of Crowley’s nature, but Nikola squashes it down until she can only feel happiness. She feels... good. Really good. If nothing else, Crowley is something new and exciting, something unknown. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s spoiling her rotten in the meantime.

With another grin, Nikola turns away from the window and heads to the bathroom, turning on some energizing dancey music on the way. A girl can never give herself too much time to get ready for a fancy night out. As she waits for her shower to get nice and hot, she thoroughly brushes and flosses, even taking out the rarely used mouthwash and giving a good swish. Steam is pouring out of the stall so she hops in and takes her time scrubbing, buffing, and shaving everything. She makes sure to use the good shampoo, the stuff that removes buildup and never fails to leave her long, straight hair extra soft and shiny. Exfoliating face scrub, moisturizing body wash. Finally satisfied, she turns off the shower and steps out, grabbing a clean and fluffy towel to dry off. 

Facing her fresh and pink reflection, Nikola can only see a frenzied excitement in her own eyes. A spark of life that had been missing for, well… a very long time. She can’t remember a point in her adult life when she’s felt such a constant rush, such a natural high. Letting her hair dry naturally, she starts on her face - understated makeup with a strong cat-eye seems like the best choice for the night. She twists her mostly-dry tresses back from her face and glances down to hunt out a bobby pin or something on her countertop. Seeing the red-jeweled clips prominently displayed where she would find them brings another smile to her face. She knows they hadn’t been there before her shower. She checks her phone again - 4:52 now. Nik can hardly wait to get into her new clothes and decides to go ahead and get started. Scandalous undergarments slide easily over her smooth skin, the satiny corset feeling cool and then warm as it hugs her ribs. The hook-and-eye closures down the front make it simple for her to get herself into it without assistance. Fishnet stockings next. Then, just for fun, she grabs her Docs and slips them on without lacing them, then slides the gloves up over her elbows, and faces her full-length mirror. Oh yeah, she looks hot. Wow. Steampunk pinup, she decides, smoothing her hands down her front appreciatively. After a moment, she reluctantly turns away from her reflection, knowing that time is ticking by rapidly. She ties up her boots and then approaches her gown. She runs her hands down the skirt reverently, then slips it off the hanger over her door and steps into it. She is just trying to reach to get the zip up all the way when she feels a slight charge in the air and a thigh-clenchingly familiar accent purrs into her ear, “Allow me.” Warm, steady hands slide the zip up the rest of the way, then gently turn her around by the elbow.

“Hello, darling.”

Nikola takes just a moment to breathe him in before replying, “Crowley.” Her mouth curves up automatically as she says his name. He smells just the same as she remembered - Scotch and shoe polish, and that burnt gunpowder scent that follows the fireworks on the Fourth of July. He’s in his black suit once again; the only difference is a black bow tie in place of the silver patterned straight tie from yesterday and the addition of a black top hat. His hazel eyes are sparkling with mischief as usual and a delighted smile is creeping across his face as he takes in her appearance. 

“You are simply breathtaking, my dear Nikola,” his velvet voice murmurs. “Did you miss your King?”

“Of course,” she replies, allowing a small smirk to lift her features. “And you?”

“Ah, being without you, even for only a few hours… it was Hell.”

“I bet,” she laughs. “Get over here.” She grabs his lapels and pulls him down for a slow, deep kiss. He growls against her lips and opens his mouth to her, sliding their tongues together in a sinful dance. His left hand comes up to cradle the back of her head while his right arm wraps around her waist and draws her closer to him, pressing his body right up against hers. She can already feel Willie stirring with arousal and vaguely wonders whether they’ll actually make it to wherever it is they’re going.

With a deep chuckle he eventually breaks their kiss, resting his forehead against hers and breathing a bit heavily. She knows she’s outright panting hot against his mouth and feels flushed and warm all over. The meager panties are already hopelessly drenched. “Plenty of time for that later,” he says. She is fascinated watching the small muscles in his jaw as he speaks. She can literally watch his accent form as the words come out of his mouth. 

“So, where are we going?” Her voice is husky and lust-addled. It sounds unfamiliar to her own ears. She’s surprisingly unbothered by this.

He pulls back from their embrace and takes a deep, slightly shaky breath. Her cat decides to wander into the bedroom just now, and Crowley stoops to pet him. Surprise lifts Nikola’s eyebrows momentarily - normally her cat is much pickier about his company but he had just strolled right up to Crowley and presented his head for pets. She’s quite pleased.

“Well,” he replies, straightening back up gracefully, “seeing as how it’s only been a few hours since I made you that breakfast and you enthusiastically ate every last bite of it, I reckon you’re not starving quite yet. I thought we could maybe take a little stroll.”

“That sounds actually quite nice. A good, wholesome way to work up an appetite.” She looks sideways at him, and his responding grin is slightly predatory. “Did you have anywhere specific in mind? There’s a park not too far from here.”

“Please. King of Hell. Where do you want to go? Think big.”

“Oh. Right. Teleportation. That works anywhere?”

“Anywhere. Have you done much traveling? Is there anywhere in particular your little black heart has always desired to see?”

She embarassingly giggles again. “Um, no, actually I haven’t really gone anywhere outside of the States. I’m not sure where I’d want to start.”

“Well then, let me show you the world. Shining, shimmering, splendid.”

“Did you really just quote Aladdin at me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His glittering eyes say otherwise.

“Right. Well, erm… You know what? We’re dressed the part. Can we visit a castle?”

“As my lady commands.” He takes her arm and winds it through his before they blink out of her apartment.

***

“Whoa.”

“Welcome my dear, to the Castle of Mey.”

It’s after midnight in Scotland when they pop into existence. They’re several yards downhill from the historic castle, and the view is breathtaking. All the windows are dimly lit up from the inside and the full moon above casts silvery light over the stonework. The grounds surrounding the impressive structure are immaculately kept, and she can see vague movement at the top of a flagpole that juts proudly high above.

“Where are we?”

“Scotland. Canisbay, Scotland to be precise.”

“And this is the Castle of..?”

“Mey. The Castle of Mey.”

“The Castle of Mey,” she breathes. “Can we get-”

“-closer?” Before the question is fully out of her mouth, he pops them right up onto the tallest turret. The breeze up here is stronger and flutters her skirts around her ankles. Nikola is not at all concerned though. Crowley has a firm grip around her waist and she knows he’d never let her fall. She’s never had a fear of heights anyway. From up here, she can see every tower of the castle and the surrounding gardens. She’s speechless.

“It was built originally in 1572,” he supplies. “It wasn’t yet a hundred years old when I was born. This is where I grew up.”

She turns to look at him in surprise. “Here? In this castle?”

“No, no, not HERE specifically. Would’ve been nice though. Nah, I just meant this part of Scotland.”

“Oh,” she says quietly, turning back to the spectacular view. “This is just… this is truly amazing, Crowley. Thank you.”

His responding chuckle is slightly self-conscious and very sincere. “It’s my pleasure, darling.”

“What else can you tell me about this place?” She squeezes his hands as they wrap further around her waist. Crowley rests his chin on her left shoulder and continues speaking, his gravelly voice vibrating against her ear, his hot breath making goosebumps rise up along her left arm.

“Well, over the centuries it went into disrepair and was eventually abandoned. Sometime in the 1950s I believe, our beloved queen visited and was so distraught by its state that she commanded it to be restored. These gardens are her doing. It’s a regular tourist attraction now.”

“Wow. I… I sound like a broken record. But I really don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s quite alright, Pet.” He hugs her waist momentarily. “Now I believe I promised you a walk. A bit dangerous to do so up here though.”

“Right. Gardens?”

He pops them down right into the middle of the gardens. She’s immediately hit with the natural floral perfume. They begin a leisurely stroll down the gravel pathways, the crunch of the small rocks sounding unnaturally loud to her ears compared with the silence of the night. Rows upon rows of mingled blooms are all around them, tall grasses leaning over the smaller floral shrubs. “What was it like? Growing up here? ...In the 17th century?”

He smiles and removes his top hat, rolling it around in his hands. “Wet. Dirty.” She swallows convulsively - hearing his voice just saying those two words makes her spine tingle. “You already know my mum was a witch, so that should tell you something. A real witch, with real powers. Not one of those poor sods who were burned at the stake during the mob hysteria. Anyone came to our door accusing her, she’d just cast a spell erasing her memory from their minds. Right handy, that.”

She nods slowly. “So, broken home, no father figure, crazy mom. Sounds like 90% of peoples’ childhoods these days.”

“Not yours.”

“No, mine was fine. I mean I still have the crazy mom, but dad keeps her reigned in most of the time.” She smiles indulgently. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t a weird kid, though. I think I turned out okay.”

“Well I think I’m doing rather well for myself, too.”

“You know, soulless demon aside, I can tell that you’re good at your job. Someone’s gotta do it, right?”

“That’s right.” Crowley looks over at her and smiles softly. The moonlight makes her pale skin glow and picks up the fire in the rubies covering her gown (yes, real rubies - what kind of a King do you think he is?). Mentally congratulating his own taste, Crowley finds that he’s helpless at this moment to resist her. Coming to a halt in the middle of the path, he turns her to face him. She looks up, eyebrow quirking almost challengingly. He wraps his large, warm hands around the back of her neck and leans down. Just as their lips are about to touch they hear a very Scottish, very angry “HEY!!” They whip their heads toward the sound and see a guard starting to run in their direction - after all, 1am is kind of past visiting hours.

“Oh, bollocks.” And they blink out.

***

“Wow you’re really taking this Disney thing to heart.”

They pop back in front of Neuschwanstein Castle. It really does look like a real-life version of a Disney fairytale castle, and it’s currently covered in a dusting of December snow. Before Nikola can even shiver, Crowley conjures up a long, fur-lined cloak and wraps it around her shoulders, securing the hood over her head.

“Welcome to Germany, Love. We’re right on the southern border. You can practically see Liechtenstein from here.”

“I can see Russia from my house,” she mutters under her breath. He looks at her, tilting his head in confusion. She glances sidelong at him. “Nothing,” she chuckles, returning her gaze up to the towering spires of the castle. “This is amazing.”

“I thought you might like it. Very iconic. We are at Neuschwanstein Castle.” His German accent is perfect and definitely a turn-on. “Your instinct was correct - it’s been the inspiration for many Disney and other fairytale castles.”

She reaches over and takes his hand in hers. “You really know how to impress a girl.” He smiles down at her. “But… I can’t help but wonder why. You’re the King - you don’t need to be hanging around a nobody mortal like me.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. First of all, you’re not a nobody. You’re hanging out with me, which makes you somebody. And second of all, the King of Hell can fuck whomever he pleases.”

She can’t help it - her hand tightens on his as she feels desire thrum through her body. His casual vulgarity is delicious in that accent.

“Hmm, I do believe this idyllic landscape is having an effect on you, Love. Whatever shall we do about that?”

Nikola casts around for any type of shelter, anywhere she and Crowley can duck in and see where their passion takes them, but the darkened, snow-covered mountaintop does not seem to provide anywhere convenient. Crowley chuckles in an absolutely sinful way before wrapping his arms around her and teleporting them once again.

They end up in an excruciatingly opulent bedchamber. “King’s private chambers,” Crowley purrs as he begins to press slow, warm kisses to the side of her neck. Nikola hums softly and leans into the sensations. She registers a vague fear of being caught once again, and the slight adrenaline buzz only heightens her arousal. Even after less than a day, she realizes that she’d missed Crowley and craves his touch. He slides his hands along her sides to her waist, their warmth seeping through the satin of her gown. He grips her waist and lifts her easily onto the ornate bed. Standing between her knees, he cradles her face in his hands and kisses her slow and dirty, his hot tongue sliding against hers. She moans into his mouth; he tastes like fire and sex and she can’t get enough. His hands roam down from her face to her neck, her shoulders, and down her arms leaving a blazing trail of heat and want in their wake. His then begins bunching her voluminous skirts up around her hips, and he finally breaks the kiss with a wicked grin. Slowly, gracefully, he sinks to his knees in front of her. He disappears from view beneath her skirt for a moment and she feels his warm breath on very sensitive skin, straight up to her core. Nik’s breath catches in her throat and a small whimper escapes her lips as she feels Crowley’s teeth barely graze her lower lips, closing on the soaking mess that used to be her red panties. He reappears and stares straight into her eyes, sliding her panties down to her thighs with his teeth, then finishes pulling them down her legs and off over her boots with his hands. He brings them up to his nose and inhales, his eyes dilating visibly at her scent. He then carefully tucks them away into his pocket.

“You are a bad, bad man,” she purrs at him.

“And you just may be my salvation,” he growls, ducking his head back under her skirt. She doesn’t have time to wonder at that choice of phrasing because some incredibly distracting things are now happening beneath that skirt. His warm tongue softly traces her smooth lips and she gasps, falling back onto her elbows. He treats her lower lips with the same care as he had her other ones before, with slow and dirty kisses and languid licks, before dipping his tongue in deeper. “Ohhh, unholy fuck, Crowley,” she moans softly and feels his lips curve up in a smile at her language. Her eyes are rolled back in her head, lids half-closed, brow furrowed, mouth hanging open in a comical display of pleased surprise. His beard is lightly prickling her thighs, hands holding her legs open, his arms fully supporting their weight easily. The occasional reminders of his powers and super strength are certainly a turn-on - Crowley could turn her into paste with a snap of his fingers if he so chose without feeling (much) remorse, and yet this incredibly powerful being is using his magic to whisk her away and enthusiastically lick and suck her pussy in the opulent King’s chambers of a fairytale castle in the winter mountains of Germany. 

Before too long, one of her hands is desperately fighting its way past her fluffy skirts to grab onto her King’s short hair as his ministrations find an intense rhythm, and small whimpers are forcing their way out of her as his lips are wrapped around her clit and his tongue is firmly and relentlessly swirling around and around, her hips grinding themselves down onto his face of their own accord. In almost no time at all her nails are digging into his scalp and her thighs are twitching and she falls back onto the bed and bites her own wrist to muffle a scream as she comes messily into his beard. He moans at the wetness, gentle massaging movements of his tongue guiding her through it and the vibrations are almost enough to set her off again. He carefully lowers her legs until her booted feet are once again resting on the floor, runs his hands up and down her tight thighs, then just as gracefully rises back up to his feet and oh, yes, there’s that smug look again. His pride in his talents is both adorable and arousing. 

Nikola is sprawled backward, dreamy smile on her face as she looks up at him. There is definitely an uncomfortable-looking bulge in his tailored trousers and she’s determined to help him out with that. She fights her way up to a sitting position and eagerly gets to working on his belt and zipper. He reaches over and places an affectionate hand on the side of her head, feeling the silky strands underneath his fingers as he watches her. Once she frees his cock from its confines and makes to kneel on the floor, however, he stops her.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” his voice is deep and raw with lust.

Breathlessly she replies, “Returning the favor, Your Majesty, of course.”

“Well of course, but you can’t do it like that.”

She looks up at him uncertainly, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Your dress, love. You can’t just go dragging those gems on the ground like a savage.”

“Ah. Yes, of course. How silly of me. Suggestions?”

“Get back up on the bed. Face the wall.” Oh Nik loves when Crowley takes charge. She does as she’s bid. “Scoot forward. Good girl, now lay back.” She’s just far enough onto the bed that as she lays back, her head barely tips over the edge. She’s now rewarded with an upside-down view of Crowley’s magnificent cock as it bobs at mouth-level. “Perfect. You are so…” she reaches over her head and grabs him firmly, then begins pressing warm, open-mouth kisses along his impressive length. “Ahh, so bloody perfect.” Nikola starts licking the head, then opens her mouth wide and lays her tongue out flat so he can buck slowly over her face, passing the sensitive area underneath back and forth over her inviting tongue. He can’t take much of this teasing anymore, and starts to slide just the first couple inches into her mouth, groaning at the wet heat of her. She’s suddenly thankful for the choice of waterproof eyeliner; his size is a bit of a challenge and tears start forming at the outer corners of her eyes as she opens her throat to try to take in as much as she can. She’s never been much for deep-throating though and it isn’t too long until she can’t keep her natural reflexes at bay, gagging on him. While the muscle contractions are nice, Crowley doesn’t enjoy the idea of what might happen if he continues his assault on her throat. Well, unless…

He reaches down and presses two fingers to her throat. Immediately, all discomfort disappears and Nikola lets a surprised squeak out around his cock. Crowley chuckles and pulls out just enough so that she can speak.

“Did you… Did you just MAGIC away my gag reflex?!” Her lips brush his sensitive head with her speech. Upside down, her face looks twice as surprised as it normally would.

“...maybe.” He smirks at her expression.

“That… That is incredibly fucking hot. Holy… hell. Get back here.” She opens her mouth wide again and Crowley obliges her, reaching down to gently cradle the back of her head as he once again enters her hot mouth, one low groan escaping from his lips as he presses in and in and in until his entire ten inches is easily enveloped in her throat. Nik reaches over her head to grab onto his hips and he begins to slowly, gently thrust in and out, fucking her throat. She has never done anything like this before and she feels deliciously dirty and utterly debauched, used for his pleasure. Choked off moans come out of her around his thrusts, her fingers digging into his hips tight enough that it would be painful for a mortal man. Animalistic moans are unconsciously being pulled out of Crowley, punctuated by growled compliments and endearments, and quite possibly a marriage proposal or two. “Nikola, my darling girl, my fucking beautiful - aaahhhh, yesss, you feel so fucking good - you’re perfect, you’re gorgeous like this you are - your lovely slender throat, I can see you take my dick right down, watch it as I fuck your face, unnnggghhhhh -” she’s released her hold on one of his hips and is massaging his bollocks gently. It’s a bit odd this direction as they’re gently slapping against her forehead as he thrusts into her throat, but it’s wonderful too, this King slowly coming apart just for her. “Make you my Queen, I would, fuck my beautiful Queen every single day, for eternity-” she moans uncontrollably at this and the added vibration sends Crowley over the edge, and with a growl he’s thrusting roughly one, two, three more times and he comes hot and hard down her throat and she swallows him down, every single drop. 

“Hey! Was machst du da? Wie bist du hier hereingekommen?!”

Crowley gently pulls out of her throat, looking adoringly down into her face and seeming satisfied with her ecstatic expression before turning to address the newcomers. Half-turning to the door, his still-hard cock jutting obscenely from his open trousers, his movement revealing upside-down Nikola irreverently sprawled on the Royal Bed and wiping the corners of her mouth with her finger and thumb. 

“Entschuldigen Sie, bitte,” Crowley near-growls at the utterly bewildered guards, who seem to be unsure whether or not the two in the room present a threat. “We were just leaving. Danke for your hospitality.” He reaches down and takes Nikola’s hand, and they’re gone.

***

With a very fancy flip of the wrist and a strategically placed hand on her waist, Crowley manages to swing her around from her supine position when they popped out of the German castle, to upright and facing him, tight in his arms. They are in the middle of a crowded sidewalk in what actually appears to be New York. Oddly enough, the only sign that passers by have even noticed their unorthodox entrance are a few angry glares shot their way for impeding the foot traffic. 

“Pardon me a moment, darling,” Crowley murmurs as he snakes a hand between them and, using the volume of her skirts to hide his actions, tucks himself back into his trousers right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Nikola can’t help but giggle - this man is simply amazing. As soon as he’s decent once again he turns them so they can join the stream of people wandering down the street.

“Well! What time have we got?”

“About 8:30pm, New York City.” 

“Hmm, that’s about perfect for dinner.”

“Time to feed the human?”

“Yes, please, Your Majesty.”

Crowley’s eyes glint slightly red and his grin turns almost feral. Something about this woman using his title thrills him. She isn’t using it to mock him. Quite the opposite, actually - she knows exactly what it does for him and gets nearly as much satisfaction of her own on his behalf. Especially now, having seen the place where the man who turned into the demon had grown up, struggled through poverty and secured decent work as a tailor, then working his way through the demon ranks until he became King of the Crossroads and then King of All...

Nikola has immense respect for the demon walking beside her. And it isn’t all just due to his position, although that does have a good deal to do with it. To be as unabashedly self-serving and ambitious as Crowley took real strength. But it went beyond that. The very essence of Crowley, his mannerisms and his traits, his composure. How he walks with his head held high, moving so gracefully through the world, a compact and strong man who reminds her of a big cat, like a lion. Regal. Beautiful in his strength. 

And yet so utterly filthy. So irreverent. The disgusting things that man says to her - and somehow makes her want to do every single one of them. She wants to be his whore and she wants to be his Queen. She wants to be the lap where the monster can lay his head and derive comfort. Eternity doesn’t seem long enough.

“What is my pet in the mood for?” his voice pulls her out of her reverie. She can’t help the shiver that always comes with his proximity. 

Food. Right. “Hmm, maybe… Japanese? Does this city have any good sushi restaurants?” She tries for innocent and fails.

“Oh, one or two,” he replies airily. “Nice little place I know of up on 47th, near 5th and Madison. Open until 10pm tonight. It’s called Kurumazushi.”

“Can you say the name again?”

“Kurumazushi.”

“Thank you. I just wanted to hear you say things in Japanese.”

He laughs. “Oh, darling, just wait until I order for us.”

Crowley ducks them into an alley between buildings and teleports them to about half a block away from the restaurant into another alley. He begins to lead her out to the main sidewalk, but she hangs back, tugging on his arm until he turns to face her. She can’t help herself - she pulls his face down to hers and kisses him roughly, biting and sucking his lips and tongue in a fever of sudden lust and he’s right there, meeting her halfway, backing her up until she’s pressed flush against the rough wall of the building, pinned by his hips. Somewhere along the way, his tophat disappears (reappearing, quite likely, on a coat rack in his study). Her hands are up in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp and he’s growling deep in his throat as he hikes her skirts up around her hips.

“Free him,” he growls against her lips and she reaches down between them to fumble at his belt and zip, groaning as he springs free, hard and ready, into her waiting hands. He grabs her by the hips and easily lifts her until she wraps her legs around him, locking her ankles behind his back. “Is this what you want, pet?” His dusky voice is in her ear, desperation and want coloring his normally smooth cadence. “You want me inside you? Want to feel your King’s royal dick deep inside, feel me fucking you until you forget your own name?”

“Ah, YES, yes! Please!” Of course she does, she’s been craving him all day. In one swift thrust he buries himself in her and they both cry out, the sounds echoing off the buildings. Crowley quickly reaches up and tugs on the ends of his bowtie until it slips free of his collar, one long strip of black silk, and he unceremoniously stuffs it into Nikola’s mouth to muffle her screams. He takes her hard and fast, flesh slapping loudly out in the open air, driving her into the wall, panting and grunting against her neck, biting her hard enough to bruise. “My dirty girl, my naughty whore, dancing through my mind all day and all night, distracting me from my royal duties,” he groans. “Very important stuff to do and all I can think about is coming to you, finding you wherever you are, ripping your clothes off and fucking you right where you stand.” Her screams raise higher and higher in pitch around the makeshift gag, muscles clenching tighter and tighter around Crowley’s cock as he fucks her, fingers digging into his shoulders, grabbing handfuls of his messy hair, pulling him closer to her. “Watching you come apart, seeing your beautiful face when I do this,” and with a sinuous roll of his hips he hits her deep and hard, his head brushing over that spot inside over and over again and she growls around her gag. He pulls back enough to watch her face, flushed with sweat dotting her forehead, black bowtie clenched between her teeth. “Open your eyes, Love, look at me,” and her eyes slowly crack open and she locks her gaze with his, those supernatural red flashes glinting through the hazel darkened with lust. The sight sends her flying over the edge, her orgasm ripping through her and she’s sobbing with the intensity of it even as she’s gushing all over him. Watching her release triggers his, fingers digging into her hips and leaving bruises as he slams into her a final time, spilling hot inside of her. All they can do is hold each other tight through the aftershocks, feeling each other still twitching inside and around one another, while they try to catch their breaths, panting heavily, hearts racing wildly in synch with one another. After an eternity she works her stiff ankles free of their lockhold and he carefully sets her down on her feet. A snap of his fingers takes care of their mutual sticky mess and she thinks again how much she could get used to this.

“Well,” he says with false briskness, “I’d say that was unexpected, but really with us, it wasn’t. You… are mad. You are a mad, beautiful, wicked woman.”

“You liiiike me,” she teases. 

“I think that goes without saying, Love.”

Finally feeling calm enough to walk, they join hands and head out to the sidewalk, falling in with the foot traffic heading up the block. She only limps a little.

***

True to his promise, as soon as they are seated at the bar, Crowley engages the chef in beautiful, fluent Japanese. Mr. Uezu is a smiling, older man who seems to know Crowley quite well, laughing with him as he begins to prepare their dinner. His movements are fluid and graceful, the ultra-sharp knife seemingly an extension of his arm. With practiced skill, he builds stunning plate after plate of simple yet mouthwatering sashimi and sushi. Crowley informs her that it’s the chef’s choice, what is called an Omakase course (and incidentally, the most expensive thing on the menu). Nikola has had sushi before, of course, but this…

“This is otherworldly. There is no other way I can describe it. This fish has come from an alien planet, sent here to make us all so fat and happy that the aliens from said world can come swoop in and take over and we will let them, as long as they bring more of this fish.”

Mr. Uezu laughs heartily at her statement and Crowley is shaking with silent giggles of his own, trying to keep the fish in question from coming shamefully out of his nose before he can swallow. “I am glad you like it!” the grinning chef replies, pulling out more ingredients for their next plate.

“I’ve been coming here since you first started, my friend,” Crowley smiles up at Mr. Uezu. He turns to Nikola. “Mr. Uezu started the first Kurumazushi in the mid-1970s. Sushi wasn’t nearly as popular then as it is now.” He turns back to the chef. “You’ve only gotten better with age.”

“I wish I could say the same of you Mr. Crowley,” he replies with a sparkle in his eye. “Only you do not age!”

“He… he knows? About you?”

“He certainly does. Not all deals are made with souls.”

“You made a deal?” she asks the chef.

He nods. “Many years ago, I summoned Mr. Crowley. I had a great dream for America, to open successful sushi restaurants here. I did not know whether I would be able to show the American people the fine art of sushi in a way they could appreciate. Mr. Crowley helped me to be the success I had hoped to be.”

“Whoa. So if you didn’t sell him your soul, what did he get instead? If I may ask. Am I being too nosy?”

Mr. Uezu smiles down at her. “No, you are only full of wonder. You ask questions because of your name. Mr. Crowley has the privilege of eating whatever he and his companions wish, free of charge. Until I lay down my knife and retire, he will never go hungry!”

“Not a bad deal!” Nikola admits. “But… what about your soul? Do you still go downstairs at the end?” She turns back to Crowley. “What happens then?”

“Well, his soul will be mine for all eternity. Good fish only gets you so far,” Crowley admits. “But since he’s been such a bloody nice guy his whole life, he’s getting an automatic promotion through the ranks. He’s going into sales, like I was.”

Mr. Uezu grins at Crowley. “I hope I will be as good at sales as I am with fish.”

“You could turn anything into an art, my friend,” replies Crowley with rare sincerity. Mr. Uezu fights off a blush at the compliment.

“So wait, what was that about my name?” Nikola asks the chef.

“In Japanese, your name roughly translates to ‘of the child’ or ‘the child within,’” he tells her. “It is natural that you have curiosity. You probably have a lot of fun in life.”

“That, so far as I have been able to tell, is absolutely true,” Crowley agrees.

“Huh. Cool!”

Mr. Uezu laughs. “See?”

It’s Nik’s turn to laugh at herself. “Ah, yes. Quite.”

They savor the next plate together. As Nikola chews, she thinks of another question she’s been meaning to ask the former King of the Crossroads. “So, you were the master salesman forever, right? There had to have been some really weird deals that went down. What’s like, the top five strangest things people were willing to trade in their eternal souls for?”

“Hmm…” Crowley taps the ends of his chopsticks against his lip as he considers her question. She finds this very distracting. “Well, most of the time people go for the obvious. Money, success, fame, glamor. That sort of thing.”

“Party Monster, really?”

“If you’re not careful, Pet, you’re going to steal my shriveled heart right out of my chest.” Every square inch of Nikola tingles as he looks sideways at her. “As for the strangest, most of those come from the revenge-seekers. They can get downright nasty.”

“Ohh, yeah, I bet. There’s some people in my life I could plot some really bizarre things for.”

“Don’t worry, love. Already got some ideas of my own. You have a habit of attracting cretins.”

“You’re going to White Knight me, in Hell?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that. Umm… positive. I can get as far as positive.” Nikola feels like her chest has gotten about 17 times lighter than the rest of her body. She has a suspicion that she might actually be glowing. Physically glowing. Possibly with glitter surrounding her.

“It will be my absolute pleasure.”

Thankfully Mr. Uezu places more melt-in-your-mouth fish in front of them so she has time to chew before she says something that might embarrass them both. Like “Yes, Sire, I will be your Queen. Starting right now.”

“Ah! I do remember a few, now that I’ve thought about it. One woman sold me her soul for revenge on this bloke who done her wrong for years. Growing up, in primary school and on, all through their childhoods together. Any time she would dare to wear a skirt or dress to school he would ‘Flip-up-Friday’ her. No matter the day of the week. It sounds silly now but it really gave the poor girl a massive complex. Never trusted any man, always felt like her clothing targeted her. Truly despicable what he managed to do to her head. So, she asked if there was a way that I could make any pair of pants this asshole put on feel like women’s underwear - specifically at least two sizes too small and preferably a g-string.”

Nikola is really glad her mouth is not full right now. “You can do that?!”

“Yep! Anything - boxers, briefs, any kind of underwear he had on would look just like it should but to him it would feel like he had on his kid sis’s panties. He tried to get out of it by going commando so we just shrunk the size of his trousers too. It wasn’t necessarily a stipulation of her deal, we may have taken the liberty there, but he deserved it.”

“Unholy fuck, Crowley. Just, wow.” Nikola takes a moment to picture this. It’s intensely satisfying. “What else?”

“Young guy traded his soul so that his stepfather would constantly hear every single insult he ever threw the kid’s way running through his head, day and night.”

“Seriously? How did that work?”

“Well it was just like people who hear voices in their heads, only these voices told him that he was stupid and would never amount to anything, he didn’t belong, he wasn’t loved, all that rubbish.”

“What happened to him?”

“Blew his own brains out before a year passed.”

“Bastard.”

“You are surprisingly without remorse for a mortal woman.”

“Some people really don’t deserve it.”

“Touche.”

They chew in silence for a minute, each lost in thought. Nikola is no stranger to the failures of her fellow humans. Some people are seriously just scum and deserve to be treated as such. She has often wondered, however, about her own lack of remorse that Crowley had just pointed out. Is she jaded? Is there something else more seriously wrong with her? Or is she just a realist? Well, so far Crowley doesn’t seem to have any problems with it, so she decides not to make an issue where one isn’t already there.

Crowley, meanwhile, is getting much further ahead of himself. He remembers telling Nikola that he enjoys carving in his spare time. He pictures bringing her downstairs to his special chambers, showing her his craft. He imagines slamming her down into the lap of a bleeding, screaming victim and taking her right there in the torture chair.

He has to remind himself that he hasn’t come in his trousers for centuries and it would be a shame to start again now.

Mr. Uezu charms them into one last plate of sashimi before they can beg off for the night. They promise to return soon, Nikola repeatedly singing his praises and telling him it was the best meal she has had maybe ever. Well, since breakfast of course. But top two, definitely. He smiles and bows them out of the restaurant and they find themselves once again out on the busy New York City sidewalk. A light snow has begun to flurry around, dancing in the breeze, fresh flakes swirling down to settle with their slushy brethren on the ground. Grinning up at him, Nikola pulls Crowley down for another wildly inappropriate public snog (“Come here, fish breath!”) before they start off toward another convenient alleyway. Wrapping their arms around each other, Nik’s head tucked under Crowley’s chin, he transports them back to her apartment where they just stand there holding one another for several minutes while Nikola gets warmed up. Crowley, of course, is not bothered by the cold in the slightest.

Crowley pulls back just enough to press a warm kiss to her forehead. “Drink?”

“Hmm, yes please. Normally I only break out the Craig as a pity party spend-too-much-money type of thing but I have the impression that it’s going to become much more regular now.”

“Only the best for my -- date. Companion. Lady?” He actually sounds unsure. It’s endearing. And entirely unncessary.

“Crowley, Your Majesty, you can call me whatever you want to.” She accepts one of the tumblers that he’s magically conjured for them. They clink together and take their sips, holding eye contact the entire time. “Seriously, you’ve earned it. Although I really hope that you do decide to call. You know, keep me around. At least for a little while.”

“Why would I not? You’re a pleasure to be around. In every way.”

She blushes and tries to tell herself it’s just because of the warmth of the Scotch. She can’t help but look down, look away from this magnificent being. “Again, mortal. A blip on your radar. And I know I say and do stupid inappropriate things. And I’m not exactly the friendliest -”

He stops her with two fingers tilting her chin, looking into her eyes. “Kitten. I love your claws. I thought we went over this last night. My interest in you hasn’t faded in the past 24 hours, having gotten the opportunity to get to know you better.” He leans down and kisses her very softly on her mouth, then begins to trail Scotch-scented kisses down the side of her slightly bruised neck. He’d have asked if she wants the marks healed, but already knows the answer. Her eyes slide shut as she breathes him in, reveling in the almost worshipful attention.

“Hmm, if you say so,” she breathes. His ability to render her into a pile of agreeable Jell-o is really quite astounding.

“Finish your drink, Love,” he murmurs against her skin. “I’m not quite done with you for the night.” He pulls back, capturing her eyes with his. He holds her there, right hand cradling her jaw and letting the heat slowly build between them, locked in their gazes. The intimacy coaxes a flush from her, making her feel very warm from the top of her head all the way to her toes. She realizes that she’s breathing heavily and can tell by his expression that her pupils are dilated with lust, just for him. She wants him. Now.

She finally brings her glass to her lips, tosses back the rest of the Scotch, and drops the empty glass knowing that it will disappear into thin air. Blinking slowly, biting her lip, drawing her hands over her satin-covered breasts, she walks backward down her hallway toward her bedroom. Candles flare into existence along the walls at eye-level, pacing her as she walks, and she can pretend for a moment that she’s the one with the magic. She smiles at Crowley as he finally follows suit, draining his glass and disappearing it before following swiftly after her. 

Inside her bedroom, every surface is once again covered in softly glowing candles. The King of Hell appears to have a romantic side, and Nikola melts just a little to think about it. She’s suddenly a bit nervous, seeing the predatory red glint in Crowley’s eyes. The nervousness fades though as he approaches her and puts his warm hands on her; she can’t help but relax into his familiar touch. He moves behind her and sweeps her hair over one shoulder to better reach the zipper of her dress, mirroring his movements from the beginning of the night. He places warm, open-mouth kisses over the back of her neck as he slowly slides down the zipper and she almost purrs in response. The fabric rustles as the dress falls to the floor, and before it has a chance to wrinkle, a wave of Crowley’s hand sends it to its hanger over her door. Nikola chuckles at his frankly adorable fastidiousness. She’s left in her corset, gloves, fishnet stockings, and boots. Her panties are still tucked safely in one of Crowley’s pockets.

“Darling…” he growls against her neck as he runs his hands up and down the satiny material of her corset, letting just the tips of his fingers trail down and lightly touch the bare skin of her hips. “Seeing you like this... is driving me mad… I want to take you…” his hands wander lower, warm and soft, reaching around to the front of her thighs, his thumbs gently tracing her outer lips, “in every conceivable way.” She gasps as his thick fingers finally find their way to the slickness between. He leans over so his hot breath ghosts against her ear, whispering in that deep velvet over gravel voice, “And even in some inconceivable ones.”

It’s damn near impossible, but she refrains from telling him that she doesn’t think that word means what he thinks it means.

Crowley feels the thought cross her mind, and chuckles low in his chest. She’s only guessed so far at the extent of his powers, but what she’s guessed is correct. Her mind is open to him and he takes full advantage. He doesn’t have that kind of access with every human or even every demon, but Nikola has so far surpassed all of his expectations so why not this one as well? The telepathy between them has just as much to do with her own untapped magic as with his formidable powers - she just does not know how to access hers yet. 

So very many things for him to look forward to…

But for now, Nikola is pressed up warm and willing against him, tantalizing flashes of smooth skin teasing him from around the scraps of satiny material that accentuate her form. He has two fingers sliding up and down between her folds, teasing where she wants his touch most, dipping inside to gather the slickness that nearly drips out of her. “So ready for me,” he murmurs into her ear. “You want this, don’t you Pet? My hands on you, touching your naughty bits - ahhh!” She pushes back into him, grinding against him, already painfully hard and straining against his trousers. “Something I can do for you, Kitten?”

She reaches up behind her, running her fingers through his hair, messing it up and scratching her nails against his scalp. She turns her head to the side, her face barely an inch away from his, and whispers against his lips, “Fuck me, your Majesty.”

The King of Hell growls as he grabs her around her waist and throws her onto her bed. Nikola squeaks in surprise, landing on her hands and knees and falling onto her side, leaning up on one elbow as her legs fall open to him. 

“You filthy minx,” he growls, desperate to get his suit off, to cover her soft body with his own, almost tearing through it in his haste before he remembers his own powers. With a snap of his fingers they're both gloriously naked, suit neatly folded on her chair next to him and her corset, gloves, boots, and stockings in a neat pile beside the bed. The patience and slow seduction of the previous night are a distant memory now, replaced with a pure, ragged need so thick between them that it’s palpable. She’s staring up at him, mouth open in a hungry smile. His cock bobs between his legs as he stalks toward her, red eyes flashing, hair standing up from the attention of her fingers, candlelight glowing off his firm body. He climbs up onto her bed, crawling over toward her as she scoots back onto her pillows, still piled up against the headboard from this morning. “You want your King to fuck you? Want to feel this cock inside you, want me to take you? How would you like it, Darling? Hard and fast, want me to punish you with this?” He strokes himself, glancing down at his enormous erection before meeting her eyes once again, boring into her soul. He climbs over top of her, resting his forearms on either side of her head, settling his hips between her thighs and rolling himself sinuously so that the head of him slides up and down her slickness, rubbing against her clit and making her gasp. He leans down until his lips brush her ear, “Or do you want me to fuck you slow so you can feel every inch of me, in and out of that sweet cunt, draw out your pleasure until it’s agonizing before I finally let you come?”

“Uuuhhhnnnn just get inside me please, do what you want to me - I need you - fuck, please!”

“Please, what?”

“PLEASE SIRE FUCK ME!”

“As my lady commands.” And he plunges inside her, finally, stretching her and filling her and it’s exquisitely painful and wonderful and it feels so right that her eyes tear up. He pushes in and in until all ten magnificent inches are buried inside of her and she knows there has to be magic involved. He stills until she remembers how to breathe, drawing in a shaky gasp before attempting to beg him to move but all that comes out is an unintelligible string of vowels and consonants that vaguely represent “please” and “fuck” and “Majesty.” He circles his hips before drawing slowly out and pushing back in almost lazily, grinning at her screwed up eyes and open mouth, at her pleasure so delightfully clear on her face. He circles again and she feels his strong muscles bunching and flexing over her body, sending another flood of moisture around his cock as he leisurely fucks her. “Open your eyes, Pet, look at me, I want to watch you fall apart.” And she does as she’s told just as she will always do what he tells her, lifting her heavy lids, glazed eyes trying their hardest to focus on his face. Oh, fuck is he beautiful, this demon lover. Her arms are wrapped around his back, hands reaching up to dig into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, occasionally tracing designs up and down his broad back with her nails, her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locked over his firm bottom in encouragement. She can’t help the tears that have started to fall sideways into her hair and ears and he leans down to kiss her temples, the salty wetness making his lips shine as he curves them into a gentle smile, all the while keeping up that tortuously slow rhythm - in, grind, out. In, grind, out. 

“I can’t - so fucking good - Crowleyyyy-” she moans, digging her nails into his back hard enough to draw blood.

He’s almost breathless as he answers her, “Yes, Darling? What is it that you need from your King?”

“Faster, please,” she whispers. “Punish me.”

Crowley actually whimpers at this before he picks up his pace. This woman is going to be his undoing, he knows it. He welcomes it.

Nikola meets him thrust for thrust now, his hips snapping into hers hard enough to leave bruises, their breaths coming hard and fast, mingling between their faces as their foreheads touch, eyes almost crossing in the effort to remain in contact. He curves his body so that every thrust hits that sweet spot inside of her and her moans merge into one long scream, punctuated by the rhythm of their bodies. It’s only moments before he fucks her to the edge, the pitch of her scream rising until no sound comes out, eyes boring into his, brow furrowed, every muscle rigid until he leans over to her ear and growls, “Let go, Darling.” 

Her vision whites out as her eyes roll back, abdominal muscles clench and convulse and on some primal level she knows that she’s gushing around him. The slick sounds of his pounding turn obscenely wet, her walls tightening so hard that he’s nearly pushed out of her. Crowley, ever the gentleman, decides that he can now take his turn. He leans back, grips her hips and really lets her have some of his demon speed and strength. “OH-FUCK-OH-FUCK-OH-FUCK!” she chants as he growls deep in his chest, more animal than man, giving her the punishment she’d demanded of her King. The slapping of skin on skin finally reaches a crescendo as he fucks her into another screaming, clenching orgasm and he comes right alongside her, hot and hard, thrusting hard one last time and collapsing into her arms.

They lay together for some minutes trying to catch their breaths. Finally, Crowley slides himself out of her with a groan and waves his hand almost negligently to clean up their massive, sticky mess. Another snap of his fingers extinguishes the candles throughout her apartment. Crowley reaches over and grabs Nikola, spooning her forcibly and sighing in contentment. She giggles and snuggles backward into his warm embrace.

They wake several times during the long night together for rounds two, three, four… lying side by side, her leg draped over his hip, kissing slowly and softly while he slides gently in and out of her… her climbing on top of him, bracing her hands on his strong chest while she rolls her hips around and around, grinding herself on him as he runs his hands over her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she giggles and swats his hands away… him spooned up behind her and kissing the back of her neck as he thrusts into her from behind… They aren’t concerned with any destination, just fucking until they pass out again only to wake up and keep going. They can’t get enough.

In the morning, Nikola wakes up and reaches her arm out…

...and wraps it around the warm, solid chest of the King of Hell.


End file.
